The Sedalia weekly bazoo. [volume] (Sedalia, Mo.) 187?-1904, 1887-05-10
THE BUSY MOTH.
An Instructive Bit Of Natural History Re-
lating to the Rare Old Bird.

You will find great deal of valuable
information about the moth in books;
you will learn that he possesses inven-
tive talents of high order. and jaws
which closely resemble pair of scis-
sors. But full realization of the
creatures ingenuity can only be had
by intimate personal acquaintance.
The moth is not an intelligent-look-
ing bird. On the contrary, he has
receding brow and chin, wholly un-
intellectual cast of countenance-a
sort of OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS look. But if you
tuck the bed-clothes under his chin
and 60 off on tip-toe in order that he
may slumber again. you will ere long
find yourself victim of misplaced
confidence. His unprepossessing feat
ures, and his habitually weary look are
wise provisions of nature to enable
him to successfully impose upon the
human race.
If he possessed massive forehead,
large, soulful eyes, meath finely pen
ciled brows. delicately chiseled feat
ures, and clear. ringing laugh, in
connection with his scissor-like jaws.
and his wild. eager longing to devour.
expensive store-clothes, men would be
on their guard against him. Or, if he
were of the size of dog or a rabbit.
or even of kitten, he could be chased
out of the house or shot at sight But
he is so small that he can hide himself
and his whole family under button;
or, if he feels like it, can lie on the lap
pei of your coat and smile up into your
face. and you will think him speck of
dust, if You see him at all.
The moth and the tailor are bound
by some mystic tie, the precise nature
of which has never been made public.
But that it exists is beyond question.
The two are constantly playing into
each others hands. The tailor does
all in his power TO further the sale of
the particular goods to which the moth
is most partial; and the moth, in his
turn. loses no opportunity to serve the
tailor, as l shall show. Speak TO your
tailor about this, and he will affect To
regard it as pleasantly. He will
evince marked disinclination to con-
verse on the subject. Question him
closely, and he will indulge in evasive
repartee or become angry. Nor can
you gain any information from the
moth.
Let us study the ways of this eccen-
trio and ingenious fowl. You are going |
to the country. Your wife gets out all |
Your winter clothes, and all hers, and |
all the children's, and has them hung
on the line in the backyard, remarking
that she is so glad those Simpsons are |
not at home to see them and make re- |
marks about them. Then she sends |
the chambermaid out with stick to |
beat them. She works until her hand |
is blistered, and until she has burst two |
of the seams in your dress coat, and |
knocked most of the stuffing out of !
your best overcoat- Then your wife |
tells You to 60 round to the drug store
and ask the proprietor to send her |
some thing that he can recommend as
sure preventive of the inroads of |
moths.
At this the moths in the garments
you have been thupping-you don't
see the creatures, but they are there all
the same-exchange glances and smile
cynically.
You go to the druggist, and if he
doesn't happen to put up preparation
of his own for the purpose, he tells you
that there is nothing that Will strike
terror to the soul of a moth like cam
phor, just plain, simple, every. day
gum-camphOr. You buy four pounds.
and trip lightly hsmeward with. Your
wife rejoices greatly at the good tidings
of great JOY which you bring.
The clothes are all carefully folded
and Jumps of camphor the size of Co
coanuts distributed among them. Then
they are wrapped in newspapers, for
there is quaint old legend which says
that moths will have nothing to do
with these publications; that they hate
them with as deadly hatred as that
of a much-criticised tragedian, or man
whose little photographed person
al" referring to him as ''our genial and
whole-souled FRIEND" has been refused
insertion. This fable is still believed
by fnost people.
You put away your camphorated
clothes. There is one worthless old
coat that you leave lying on chair.
You 60 to the country, cast aside dull
care, and abandon yourself to enjoy
ment, skim-milk and salt-pork.
When you return, two months later,
you examine your winter garments.
When you undo the packages the smell
of camphor is so strong that it nearly
knocks you down. Are there any
moths to be seen? Well, yes, few.